virgin sunday

i look at the things
pieces of the pictures
here
ready to be made
and its about a dry fuck
i tell ya

my mothers ring from 61
a bloody valentine
and luck
things i cherish and
harbor safe from
this storm of modern reality

so many times my
smaller childs mind would
have me push a blade in
to a senseless suspect
someone who maybe said too much
or very little but
just at the right time(
wrong for him though)
oh
my
my
so i sit here
happy with my codeine and
colt forty five
shoot myself one more time
its the end of the smear
as i knew it
and i cannot rhyme

my desk is a beautiful sight
an extra throw pillow
with a white tile sample
sprinklings of green and light

a ceramic heater
hums three feet away
and as the air drys
and the beer goes down and
later on brings my gag response
and
then i will point it away
but for now it
warms my side in
this cold ass hell.

no matter all the sandalwood
and coverings of smells

i say i think i got
all i need
right here in this
flat       eight by six
maybe ten but
then again
two feet i won't be using anyhow

one more sip
one more drip
one more smoke
and i will put on my
headphones and
fade away---

she shoulda called today

i am glad today
is almost
yesterday
and
is becoming my day
off                         beautiful
virgin sunday